Schmaltz

I can see the rain beating against my window. It must be cold outside, but I wouldn’t know. I’m sitting in bed, the nostalgic strains of coldplay filling my room. I’m at peace, yet, something stirs somewhere deep inside. And i realise with a silent sigh, the little girl is growing up. It’s a feeling that makes me smile. The kind of smile that barely shows up on my face, but is reflected in my eyes. The kind of smile that makes a single tear show up in each eye. The smile of a kid, who for the first time in a long long time, knows that she is exactly in the right place, at the right time. It’s probably not where she belongs, but it is where she belongs right now. She’s not wiser now, for that would require a certain degree of wisdom to already be present. She’s not more mature, or more intelligent, or smarter. She’s just, herself. And isn’t that all she really needs? She knows who she is, and she’s glad. She can finally give up trying to be someone else, for she is perfect in her imperfection.

After a long time, i feel alive. I WANT to be alive. It’s like a door has been opened somewhere, and all these feelings and sensations and emotions that had been imprisoned there, come rushing out. I can feel again. I can once again, look at a moonlit night sky, and be moved by its beauty. I can once again be touched by the hunger in a stray dog’s eyes. I can once again, feel music, not only just hear it. I can once again, see life in my face, where earlier i just saw, nothing. I can, once again, feel.